


When They Came Home

by Light7



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Home, Return, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24055654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Light7/pseuds/Light7
Summary: It was funny how ‘trapped’ in the underworld never really meant trapped for Dante.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 86





	1. Chapter One

It was funny how ‘trapped’ in the underworld never really meant trapped for Dante.

Six months after Dante and Vergil had jumped off the Qliphoth, they came home.

Nero had been locking up Dante’s home office, having made it a habit to come in once a month and make sure the place hadn’t burned down, the wiring was shocking, pun intended, so Nero figured it was only a matter of time until the place went up in smoke. Having finished his check, he’d been locking the front door when he heard a familiar voice. 

“Hey kid!”

He’d turned and there they were, walking up the street like they’d just popped out to a bar. A rough bar given the state of their clothes and the mud and blood they both seemed to be covered in. Dante had an arm over his brother’s shoulders, the way an injured man might if he needed help walking, but with his accelerated healing it was doubtful Dante needed the help.

“Uhh,” Nero managed as they came up the steps. He offered the key to Dante, who refused it and pulled his own out of his pocket. Still leaning on his brother, Dante unlocked the door, and the two went inside, leaving Nero gaping like a fish on the front step.

“Aww, it smells so clean,” Dante laughed, looking over his and Vergil’s shoulders to Nero. Vergil helped Dante over to the couch where Dante was dropped unceremoniously.

“Shower,” Vergil said bluntly. Dante waved a hand in the general direction of the stairs.

“Last door on the left, leave me some hot water.”

“That depends on the capability of your water heater,” Vergil said, trudging to the stairs before disappearing up them.

“You can stop gaping kid, come give your tired old uncle a beer,” Dante called to Nero, who was still on the front step.

“You’re back,” Nero managed, heading to the bar and pulling a beer out of the small, well-stocked fridge. He removed the cap and handed the bottle to Dante, sitting next to him on the sofa.

“Very astute of you,” Dante smiled, glancing upstairs when the roar of water moving through the old pipes filled the space for a moment before dimming and becoming a quiet rumble.

“I thought you’d be,” Nero swallowed, his mouth dry. “Thought you’d be stuck.”

“Nah,” Dante tipped the beer back and drank the entire bottle in one go. “Aww that is something I’ve been wanting to do for weeks.” Nero automatically got up and fetched another. “Between my raw skills and your dear papa’s sword, we always knew we could get back.”

“So why did you leave me thinking you were never coming back!” Nero snapped. “Fucking asshole.” He punched Dante’s arm, none too gently.

“Hey,” Dante rubbed his bruised arm. “Calm down kid, I didn’t know if we’d be back.”

“You just said,” Nero growled slowly through his teeth.

“Yeah, we could get back but I didn’t know if,” Dante paused and rubbed the back of his neck. “If your dad would come back and if he didn’t, then…” he trailed off.

“Then you wouldn’t either.” Nero slumped back. Dante said nothing. “You guys suck.”

“Hey,” Dante snorted. “That’s no way to talk to your dear old uncle.”

“You got the old part right,” Nero said.

“Mean,” Dante finished his second beer. Looking around the shop, he smiled softly. “Thanks for taking care of the place. Wish I could have seen you clean it, though.”

“I didn’t clean shit,” Nero said. “A girl did, Patty.”

“Surprised I didn’t come home to pink bows and ribbons everywhere,” Dante said.

“I told her they were a fire hazard,” Nero said.

“You’re a good kid, Nero,” Dante patted Nero’s leg. The water stopped running, reminding Nero that they weren’t alone.

“So…” he started. “You two ok?”

“Define ok,” Dante’s smile spread for a moment before fading to his usual smirk.

“Well, neither of you are dead, and you seemed close a moment ago and…”

“We’re good,” Dante said. “Better than good actually.” He looked at Nero. “Thanks to you.”

“All I did was stop you killing each other.” Dante snorted.

“You’re a moron sometimes, you know that right?” Dante shook his head. “Some stuff you said to your old man must have sunk in a least a bit. He listens now before he stabs me.”

“I didn’t speak to him,” Nero started, but Dante held up his hand

“You spoke to V a lot,” Dante said. “You two were always yammering on about something.” Nero blinked slowly. He hadn’t considered that talking to V was the same as talking to Vergil. He still thought of V as someone else. It was hard to picture V, or Urizen as anything other than themselves. It was almost impossible to see them as two halves of a whole.  
Two halves of Vergil.

“Your clothes are ridiculous, Dante,” Vergil’s voice snapped Nero out of his musings. Dante looked up at his brother coming down the stairs and laughed, Nero glanced at Vergil and for a moment his brain broke. Vergil was wearing an old t-shirt of Dante’s and boxer shorts.

“My clothes are great,” Dante said, “especially the chaps.” Vergil rolled his eyes but said nothing, walking to stand in front of his younger brother.

“Shower,” he said firmly, nudging Dante’s foot with his own, “you stink.” Dante whined like a child. The two stared at each other before Dante sighed and held up his arms.

“Carry me,” he said. Vergil said and did nothing. Nero watched.

“You can walk just fine,” Vergil said eventually.

“Nope, I’m injured,” Dante said. Arms still aloft, he made a grabbing motion with his hands. “Big brothers are supposed to take care of little brothers.” That remark earned him a snort of derision from Vergil, who relented and leaned down, helping Dante to his feet.

“Bullshit are you really hurt,” Nero said.

“I’m terribly injured,” Dante grinned, arms around his brother’s shoulders. “Vergil has to help me. It’s the rules.”

“Poor little brother,” Vergil drawled and the hairs on the back of Nero’s neck stood up. Vergil leaned down and scooped Dante’s legs up, holding his younger brother bridal style. The older twin smirked. Then faster than Nero could follow, he tensed, bent his legs and then launched Dante upwards, flinging him forcefully up the stairs.

“Shower.” He snapped to the bundle of Dante whimpering at the top of the stairs.

“So, mean,” Nero caught Dante muttering before he got up and hobbled into the shower.

“Was that necessary?” Nero snapped. Vergil looked at him for the first time since the twins had returned, and Nero froze. It was so strange looking at his father, who both did and did not look like Dante.

“No,” Vergil said eventually. “But it was fun.” Nero raised his eyebrows. “I assume Dante has a kitchen here?”

“Um, yeah. Well, kind of, Dante’s not big on cooking.” Vergil nodded once, still staring at Nero, who concealed a shudder. It was like being watched by something that was trying to decide if it would be better to eat you or torment you then eat you. He’d been looked at that way by countless demons and it didn’t normally bother him as he could hold his own easily against them, but when that look came from his father, Nero felt like prey. So much so, he almost leapt out of his skin when the water turned on upstairs.

“It’s been a long time since I cooked but…” Vergil started.

“There’s nothing in the kitchen,” Nero blurted. Vergil frowned. “Well, we thought you guys weren’t coming back so Patty cleaned the place out so nothing would rot.”

“I see,” Vergil frowned, Nero felt his stomach clench with anxiety.

“I can sort you out though,” Nero jumped up from the sofa, immediately feeling less like prey when he was on his feet. He went to the bar keeping as much distance between himself and his father as possible, found the takeout menus and handed them to Vergil at arm’s distance. Vergil moved slowly to take them, and Nero frowned harder. Was he deliberately moving slow? Nero almost groaned, Vergil was acting like Nero was a scared horse, ready to bolt. 

Nero watched as Vergil put space between them and sat on the sofa, making himself smaller, putting himself at the disadvantage. Nero shook himself mentally. This was ridiculous. He was behaving like an animal, like a demon. He needed to relax.

He forced himself to go back to the sofa and sit, but couldn’t make himself close the distance between them. He watched as Vergil frowned at the menus until the water turned off.

“Uhh,” he swallowed and gestured to the current menu in Vergil’s hand. “That’s the one Dante likes best, he gets their everything pizza, wedges and if they’ve got it strawberry ice cream.”

“Man child,” Vergil muttered, but stood and walked to the phone. Nero watched him stare hard at the old rotary phone and wondered how long he must have been in the demon world to be intimidated by such an old-style phone.

“Hey,” Nero said after a long moment. “Um you need not phone; I can order it with an App.” Vergil glared at him. “It’s a programme on my phone, I mean mobile phones these days are more like computers that make calls. Um… fuck, look just tell me what you want and I’ll get it sent here.”

Vergil watched him silently for another long moment. The man was the master of pregnant silences.

“Dante’s usual will be fine,” Vergil eventually said. “But triple it, the pizza at least. The ice cream, make one chocolate.” Nero opened the app and made the order. He felt the sofa dip as Vergil sat back down. “Thank you, Nero.” Again, all the hairs on the back of Nero’s neck rose.

“Happy now!” Dante hollered from the top of the stairs, thumping down them, dressed the same as his brother.

“Ecstatic,” Vergil said when Dante collapsed into the sofa between them, Nero visibly relaxing now that Dante was back. “Nero has ordered food; you will pay him.”

“With what?” Dante snapped. Vergil sighed loudly.

“I should still have bank accounts in my name from before… before I left. I will look into re-establishing myself after food… and sleep.”

“Uhh don’t worry about it,” Nero said at the same time Dante said “Food?”

“Nero has ordered pizza,” Vergil said. Dante made a small sound of childish glee and leaned on his brother’s shoulder, closing his eyes and smiling widely.

“You smell like me,” Dante’s voice was pitched low, almost a growl.

“I used your shampoo and I’m wearing your clothes,” Vergil said, shrugging the shoulder Dante rested on lightly. “Of course, I smell like you.”

“It’s good,” Dante mumbled quietly. “Wake me up when food gets here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, please review, I’d love to hear what you think of the chapter.  
> For information on published works and upcoming projects, release dates, as well as weekly blogs, check out [my website](https://katiemarie21.wordpress.com)


	2. Chapter Two

“What the hell!” Nero shouted as he entered Devil May Cry a week after the brothers had returned. The building was in shambles.

“Something to do with coffee,” Lady muttered from her position against the wall. Trish stood next to her, torn between watching the twins and shielding her friend. A small table that normally sat to the side of the couch flew towards them, Trish raised her arm and let the offending piece of furniture shatter against her.

“Vergil made coffee; Dante drank said coffee. Now we fight to decide who makes fresh coffee,” Trish said as if it was obvious. “It’s rather sweet.” Dante suddenly crashed into the wall close to Nero, his back hitting it hard enough to dent the plaster.

“You’re paying to get this fixed,” he yelled, using the wall to launch himself back at his brother.

“This is insane,” Nero snapped. Trish raised an eyebrow at him. “Tearing the place apart because of coffee!” Trish sighed loudly and with an air of the dramatic, the way one would at a very foolish child who didn’t understand a societal norm.

“I think we should come back later?” Trish said to Lady, who nodded. Nero watched them carefully extract themselves from the apparent war-zone, leaving him to deal with it or leave as he chose.

The pool table broke under Vergil as Dante lifted and body-slammed him into it. Nero had lost count of how many pool tables Dante had gone through.

“Right!” Nero yelled. “That’s enough!” pulling his frustration up, he allowed to emotion to force a partial trigger. Semi-transparent and frankly oversized arms reached forward, one hand on Dante’s shoulder, the other on Vergil’s chest, holding them still. Had he not been so irritated he would have noticed the lack of resistance from either of them and the confused looks they gave him?

“Kid?” Dante said.

“What are you doing killing each other over coffee?” Nero said, forcing his voice to remain controlled.

“It’s my house!” Dante snapped.

“The coffee was mine,” Vergil said from his position lying amongst the remnants of the pool table. “I bought it, I made it, I was going to drink it.”

“I didn’t see your name on it,” Dante smirked. A hunk of pool table flew at him, piercing his right shoulder. “Hey!” he snapped, pointed at Vergil and looked at Nero. “Nero!”

“Give me strength,” Nero muttered, a phrase he had picked up from Kyrie when she was dealing with the kids. “I’m going to let you go now,” he whispered. “You will not kill each other, use your words.”

“Bossy,” Dante muttered as soon as Nero let him go. Vergil unsurprisingly said nothing and extracted himself from the fragmented pool table with as much dignity as possible. Dante walked over to him and helped hoist him out. He even pulled some larger splinters out of his hair.

“You’re making the next batch,” Vergil said. Dante opened his mouth to argue, but no sound came out. Vergil raised an eyebrow. “I won the fight.” He reached over and gripped the makeshift spear still in Dante’s shoulder and pulled suddenly and firmly. The spear was pulled free and Dante let out an irritated sound.

“Fine,” he traipsed off to the kitchen. Vergil had an unmistakable air of smugness around him as he started putting the front of the shop to rights. Nero rolled his eyes and set about helping.

“Why did you stop us?” Vergil said after a long moment. Nero did a double-take and frowned at his father.

“Um because you were trying to kill each other,” he drawled. Perhaps Vergil had smashed his head into the pool table a little too hard.

“Nonsense,” Vergil huffed, a tiny smile on his face. Nero noticed he hadn’t dropped the spear, still dripping with Dante’s blood. “We were demonstrating, that’s all.”

“You know for someone with your kind of vocabulary I’m surprised you don’t use your words more,” Nero huffed, turning the sofa right way up again. Vergil took a deep breath and seemed to contemplate his next words carefully.

“Sit,” he said. Nero lifted an eyebrow. “I want to speak with you, I want you to understand something so you do not get so distressed when Dante and I…” he struggled with his words.

“Murder each other,” Nero offered. Vergil huffed at him and Nero sat.

“It is difficult to put into words,” Vergil admitted. “Language, at least spoken language, is largely a human concept and they haven’t created a word that adequately describes what I am going to explain to you.”

“Vergil,” Dante whined from the kitchen. “How do you work this thing?”

“Figure it out, lummox.” Vergil took a slow breath and turned back to Nero. “Human language is how humans describe their emotions.” 

“You mean like poetry and stuff,” Nero said. Vergil shrugged.

“I was being more simplistic, happy, sad, love, affection, hate, jealousy. But yes, poetry is a good example.” He smiled, and Nero was pleased to find that it didn’t make the hairs on his arms and neck rise the way it had when he first returned with Dante. “Demons have a similar range of emotions but they are expressed differently.”

“Uh-huh,” Nero rolled his eyes.

“While there are similarities with humans, a human who loves another may bring them gifts, a demon would do the same, though it is unlikely the gift would be the same.”

“Demons don’t do chocolates?” Nero let sarcasm drip into his tone, Vergil scoffed.

“Demons would bring demonstrations of their ability, the head of a vanquished foe. Or perhaps an item of great value difficult to obtain.”

“Sounds thoughtful,” Nero said. Vergil nodded.

“It is simplistic,” he admitted. “Much less, ‘you like video games so I bought you a video game you might like’ and more ‘I’m very strong and want to impress you’. It is much more focused on proving your own worth to the other.”

“And this has to do with you and Dante trying to kill each other over coffee because?” Nero said.

“Patience,” Vergil snapped at him. “To understand that you must understand this first.”

“Ok,” Nero held up his hands and leaned back. Vergil waved a hand dismissively at him.

“When a human wants to show trust,” Vergil started. “They might express that feeling with words, demons are less verbose, in fact, only higher-order demons are gifted with speech.”

“What ya doing?” Dante said coming in with three cups of hot something on a tray. Nero was not sure if it was coffee.

“Trying to explain the intricacies of demon behaviour to Nero.”

“Demons give each other's heads,” Nero said deliberately, misconstruing the point. Dante snorted.

“Vergil, don’t talk about giving head with your son!” he laughed. Vergil pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, then you try,” he said.

“What was your point going to be?” Dante asked, sitting down and handing out cups. Vergil said nothing, sulking.

“He was talking about language and why it doesn’t work the same for demons.”

“True,” Dante said, sipping at his cup. “Low order demons can’t even talk half the time.”

“I said that,” Vergil muttered, sniffing at his cup’s contents.

“Just drink it, asshole,” Dante said. Vergil glared for a moment but took a small sip. “Your dads not wrong, but he’s being overly complicated as always. What he’s trying to say is that Demons express things physically more than with words.”

“That’s not an excuse,” Nero said. “You’re both human too, you don’t have to resort to violence every time one of you drinks the other one’s coffee.”

“You really don’t get it,” Dante said, a strange pitying look on his face. “Violence isn’t the same for a demon as it is for a human. Violence is always bad for humans, but for demons…” Dante trailed off, struggling to explain his point.

“Dante drank my coffee deliberately,” Vergil said. “It was sending a message.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nero huffed. “This is my shop, I can do what I like, blah, blah.”

“No.” Vergil corrected. “This is what we are trying to convey to you. You are looking at this through human eyes.” He let out a deep breath. “It’s not your fault, they raised you to be human, but it means that we must explain these things.”

“I didn’t drink Vergil’s coffee to piss him off,” Dante said. “Vergil, in turn, was not pissed off by my drinking his coffee.” He looked smugly at Vergil. “See it’s not complicated, you make things way to difficult sometimes.” Vergil just gestured at Nero who was gaping at Dante, his confusion clear.

“You have a hole in your shoulder that says differently,” Nero said.

“Let me finish this time,” Vergil said. Nero nodded. “Trust. When a human displays trust it might be with words. When a demon shows trust, we do differently it. Dante drinking the coffee was not a territorial action, just the opposite, it was a demonstration that…” he stopped and struggled for a moment. “I suppose the closes human parallel would be ‘what’s mine is yours, what’s yours is mine’ he knew I made it and left it unguarded, he trusted that it was not a trap, or poison or another deception enough to drink it.”

“Okay, that’s stupid,” Nero said. “But if it is the case, why did you try to kill him?”

“Remember when I said that demons show affection differently, by giving gifts, the head of a foe perhaps to show strength?”

“Stop talking about head,” Dante shifted on the couch, leaning so that much of his weight rested against his brother. “It’s gross.” Vergil sighed.

“Fighting and not holding back is a demonstration of trust and respect.”

“Aww you love me,” Dante cooed. “Big softy.” Vergil put his finger in the still healing hole in Dante’s shoulder and twisted it. 

“Even affection, yes. I trust Dante and his ability enough that I can throw him at the wall.”

“This is so dumb,” Nero said.

“Kid doesn’t get it,” Dante leaned his head back onto Vergil’s shoulder. Vergil shrugged and drank the rest of his ‘coffee’.

“That was disgusting,” he said. “you put far too much sugar in it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, please review, I’d love to hear what you think of the chapter.  
> For information on published works and upcoming projects, release dates, as well as weekly blogs, check out [my website](https://katiemarie21.wordpress.com)


	3. Chapter Three

Dante fell back into the swing of his old life fairly easily.

At least that was how it appeared on first glance. But if you looked closer his current situation had elements of his old life but also rather sizeable differences in all the important places.

The shop stayed clean. Nero had been shocked and rather unsettled to see Dante pick up after himself a few times, though this usually involved prompting from Vergil in the form of childish glares and silent treatment. Nero still didn’t understand why they had to be so juvenile about everything, but he wasn’t their therapist. Surely, they could learn some communication skills on their own.

Dante had fallen back into his work with a vengeance, enthusiastically taking jobs for once. Nero had even found him ‘looking’ for work, something Dante had never done before.  
He’d always enjoyed his work but had had a very lacklustre attitude towards obtaining it.

“What gives?” Nero asked when Dante turned up at yet another of Nero’s jobs. Dante avoided eye contact. “Come on,” Nero grinned. “Has the old man lost his big boy words again?”

“Shut up, kid,” Dante snorted. “But if you must know I’m on a self-inflicted repayment plan.”

“What?” Nero frowned.

It’s “Vergil’s fault. He found out about my debt with Lady and everyone else. That debt is gone now thanks to him emptying what was in his accounts and now I have a rigorous repayment plan.”

“Rigorous, eh?” Nero frowned. “What, your brother’s going to break your legs if you don’t pay him by Friday?” It had been a joke, but Dante hadn’t laughed.

“Between the debt and fixing the few things wrong with the shop,” Dante mumbled.

“Few!” Nero snorted.

“Yeah, shut up.” Dante glared at him. “We’re broke now and Vergil,” Dante let out a long sigh. “He deserves better than that. But don’t you dare tell him I said that.”

Nero hadn’t teased Dante about the ‘revelation’. It wasn’t a surprise. Dante liked to play the brash, tough, doesn’t-give-a-shit character, but it was so far from the truth it was funny. Dante cared a lot about everyone in his life. It was just nice to see him admit it for a change. What surprised Nero more than Dante putting in the hours so Vergil could have nice things was his father financially crippling himself to sort out Dante’s problems. It wasn’t news that Vergil cared for his brother, though getting him to admit that was even harder than getting Dante to do it. What was surprising was the stupidity of it. Nero didn’t know his father well, it was true, but he’d gleaned enough to understand that Vergil was cold logic personified. To see him blow all his money in one hit was the extreme opposite of logic. Lady would have accepted a gradual repayment plan. Vergil’s gesture was very… nice, but it was flawed.

“You two are terrible,” Nero had huffed.

Aside from the improved cleanliness, hygiene and work ethic, it was Dante’s eating habits that changed the most after his return. Dante who normally lived on pizza, ice cream and hard liquor had got a more varied diet. Though saying it was more varied, wasn’t saying much.

Vergil was an anti-vegetarian. Every time Nero had visited with take out Vergil’s plate would often be picked clean of meat, with most of the plant matter left. The exception to this being cheese. So, Dante had bought steaks and bacon in such quantities that Nero grew concerned for their cholesterol levels.

“You can’t just live off steak and cheese,” he’d bemoaned when visiting before a job to find them squabbling over breakfast. Dante had wanted to melt the cheese on the steak, Vergil did not.

“Kid, we ain’t people,” Dante rolled his eyes.

“I know, but that doesn’t mean you can’t eat a bloody vegetable once in a while.”

“I will cook eggs,” Vergil stated, both ending his and Dante’s argument and avoiding the topic of vegetables.

Turns out Vergil couldn’t cook for shit and Nero ended up taking over with threats he’d bring Kyrie over to teach them. Kyrie was many wonderful things, including a damn excellent cook. While he wouldn’t want to inflict his father and uncle on his wife, it tempted him to inflict his wife on his father and uncle. Kyrie might be small and polite, but she was an immovable object when it came to certain issues. Healthy diet being one of them.

After Nero attempted rescuing Vergil’s eggs, the three headed out on a job.

“You’re coming?” Nero asked his father when Vergil picked up Yamato.

“Clearly,” Vergil said. Nero shrugged it off despite the frigid chill running through him at the thought. He’d not seen his father fight since that day he and Dante had gone into the underworld.

The job was small potatoes, something Dante would have normally ignored. A small cult had gotten carried away with a summoning and left the damn portal open after the first summoned lower demon had killed them all. Thus, a small demon infestation had resulted. Because of the relative ease of the job competition naturally started amongst the three but ended abruptly when Nero noticed that his father wasn’t just killing the demons, he was eating bits of them.

“What the fuck,” he couldn’t help the exclamation. The tiny version of his wife who lived in his head tutted at his profanity.

“Huh?” Dante looked up from his latest kill, shrugged and went back to trying to beat Nero in the who-can-kill-the-most competition.

“No wait, you can’t just ignore that,” Nero said, ignoring the remaining demons, letting Dante have them and ultimately win the competition. Vergil ignored Nero and went to inspect the small but remarkably effective portal. He stared at it for a moment before reaching in, pulling out another low-level demon and then stabbing the portal with Yamato and closing it.

“A poor effort, nothing with more power than these could have hoped to come through,” he glanced at Nero who was still gaping at him and shook the low-level creature in his grasp. The shake was hard enough to break the creature’s spine, and it fell limp but still screeching. Vergil dropped his quarry, reached down and methodically put his hand through its chest and pulled out its heart.

“What the hell,” Nero said approaching. Vergil looked up at his son and held out the organ in silent offering. Nero knew suddenly that Dante was still and right behind him.

“It will strengthen you,” Vergil said. “Eat it.”

“I’m not eating a demon!” Nero pulled a face at the same time Dante snarled behind him. Vergil’s eyes flashed to Dante and went hard before he looked back to Nero and offered the heart again.

“It’s warm,” he said, as if that made it any better. Nero flinched when the smell of it reached him.

He was slowly coming to terms with the more demonic aspects of himself, that he really, really enjoyed hunting demons, enjoyed tearing them apart and revelling in their destruction was something he could cope with. He’d been raised to hunt demons, so he would enjoy it. What he had a harder time with was the pure shocks of pleasure he got when he smelt blood or fear.

Looking at his father now, offering an uncooked demon heart to him should make him want to retch, and it kind of did, but it also made him hungry. He stepped forward without knowing what he was going to do. He couldn’t eat that thing? Could he? However, he never got to answer that question as when he took that step, so did Dante. The older hunter stepped forward, abruptly shouldering Nero out of the way. The gesture was enough to knock Nero down and before he recovered himself Dante’s foot was on his chest holding him down.

“Uh,” Nero managed. Dante said nothing, but he did growl again. The sound was inhumanly low and vibrated right through Nero, who immediately put his hands up in a gesture of non-violence. “Chill, Dante.” Dante snorted at him, stared for a long moment, then when he was seemingly convinced Nero wouldn’t try to move he turned to face Vergil who was watching the two silently.

“Give that to me,” Dante said, his voice still inhumanly deep. Vergil looked for a moment like he might resist, might fight, but changed his mind. A pleased smile growing as he stepped to his brother and offered the heart.

“Has anyone told you you’re far too possessive, brother,” he said as he offered the heart. Dante bent a little, and Nero watched as he ate the oversized heart from his brother’s fingers.

Getting to his feet Nero rolled his shoulders, he’d cracked a rib being pushed down and pinned like that. Fortunately, it healed fast. But that didn’t mean he would not get revenge. Dante noticed his nephew getting back to his feet. His nostrils flared and Nero took a step back.

“What’s your problem, asshole?” he snapped.

“Dante, for all his strengths is not much better at handling his demonic instincts than you are,” Vergil muttered putting a hand on Dante’s shoulder and taking a deliberate step behind his brother putting Dante between him and Nero. “It comes from a lifetime of suppression.”

“Yeah? Well, he needs to chill out.” Dante said nothing but kept watching Nero. “Acting like an asshole,” Nero muttered.

“I think home would be best,” Vergil said. Nero nodded and started heading back to Devil May Cry with his father and unexpectedly grumpy uncle. They arrived only for Dante to slam and lock the door in Nero’s face.

“Asshole!” Nero yelled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, please review, I’d love to hear what you think of the chapter.  
> For information on published works and upcoming projects, release dates, as well as weekly blogs, check out [my website](https://katiemarie21.wordpress.com)


	4. Chapter 4

Nero stayed away from Devil May Cry after the Dante incident.

He wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much, Dante had been an asshole more times than Nero could count, but this felt different. It felt personal, and it unsettled Nero in a way he wasn’t comfortable with. He’d been angry at Dante plenty of times, hell he’d fantasied about breaking the old man’s nose more times than he’d like to admit. But that anger had always felt normal, it felt safe, like he could punch Dante and the anger would go away. It was a very human anger, safe, controlled and with an endpoint.

What he felt now wasn’t anything like that.

He didn’t just want to punch Dante; he dreamed about digging his claws into him and pulling the old man apart until there was nothing left but meat. It was ridiculous, Dante had been snappy and downright rude, but that didn’t warrant the level of anger and aggression Nero was feeling. It warranted a few sharp words, maybe a punch if Dante was a dick about it, it didn’t warrant dismemberment.

So Nero stayed away.

Two weeks and a pleading text message from Dante later, Nero found himself at the door to Devil May Cry.

He still wasn’t sure if this was the right thing to do. The disproportionate anger was still there. But he was a grown ass man, damnit, he could deal with this. Plus, he knew well that he had lectured the twins on dealing with their emotional problems like grownups, so running from this would not set the best example.

He kicked the door gently and flinched when Dante opened it.

Dante’s body language was weird. He looked tense, the muscles in his neck hard and twitching, but the forced smile told Nero he was trying to hide it.

“Uh, thanks for coming,” Dante stepped aside, letting Nero in.

“Yeah, well, can’t ignore you forever,” Nero muttered sitting down on the sofa. Dante perched on his desk and looked at the ground.

They stayed silent for five of the longest minutes Nero had ever lived through.

“Fucking say something,” he snapped eventually. “This is killing me.” Dante snorted.

“Sorry, kid,” Dante said eventually.

“That it?” Nero said.

“That’s it,” Dante said, still looking at the floor. Nero put his head in his hands.

“Ugh, fine,” he snapped standing. “Look I’ll see you around sometime.”

“Wait,” Dante snarled. Nero turned, his wings manifesting without thought just in time to catch Dante as he threw himself at Nero.

“What the hell!” Nero snapped. He spun on the spot, pushing Dante up against the wall and lifting him off the ground. “What the hell is going on with you?” Nero snapped. “And why do I want to kill you for it?”

Dante twitched like a pinned insect, and Nero knew it wasn’t his doing. Dante could break the hold easily, but he wasn’t struggling, and it was that what was making him twitch. He was fighting himself, stopping himself from reacting. Nero let him go and took several steps backwards, forcing his wings to vanish. It wouldn’t do to be outdone by Dante in the self-control competition.

“Ok,” Dante took a deep breath. “Ok.”

“Dante?” Nero said again. “What’s going on.” Dante growled. “Big boy words, Dante.”

“My Demon wants to hurt you,” Dante said, his voice deeper than usual.

“Yeah mine too,” Nero intoned. “Why?”

“Vergil,” Dante said.

“What’s my old man got to do with it?” Nero snapped. Dante growled again. “Look, pack that in! It’s not helping.” Nero watched as Dante took several slow breaths, his eyes closed he straightened himself up continued to breathe. Nero gave him a minute.

“Demons are possessive assholes,” Dante managed after another long moment. His voice was almost human. “Vergil is mine.”

“He’s your brother,” Nero said. “But he’s my father.” He flinched as his own voice deepened, his own demon rising to the fore.

“Demons don’t share,” Dante hissed.

“So, my demon wants to kill you cause my uncle,” Nero said. Dante nodded. “Bullshit, it was fine before you threw your tantrum.”

“Yeah,” Dante laughed. “That was Vergil’s fault.”

“Bullshit,” Nero said again, trying to stop himself shaking with the desire to tear Dante’s head from his shoulders.

“It really was this time,” Dante grinned, showing more teeth than he needed to. Nero felt his hackles rise in response. “Bastard offered to feed you.” Dante shook his head. “Can’t do that.”

“This is so stupid,” Nero said.

“Tell me about it,” Dante leaned back against the wall, trying to affect a relaxed posture. “I like you kid; I don’t want you to have to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Nero snarled without thinking.

“ok, Dante visibly tensed. “We need to sort this out then.”

“How?” Nero said.

“Demons can live in groups without killing each other,” Dante said. “They have a structure.”

“This is so bloody stupid,” Nero said again.

“Hey this is a demon problem,” Dante held up his hands. “We gotta fix it in a demon way or else we’ll kill each other trying to figure out who’s in charge.”

“But…” Nero started.

“You can’t ignore this kid,” Dante said.

“But why is it just us? Why not Vergil?” Nero said desperately, knowing where this was going.

“Because you, or at least your demon, have already accepted him as a superior.” The older devil hunter swallowed and flushed a delightful shade of pink. “Just like mine did when we were kids.”

“But you two fight all the time,” Nero said.

“But he’s still the older brother,” Dante shrugged. “Look, don’t ask me why demons do what they do, or why this shit works but trust me it does.”

“Trust you,” Nero muttered.

“We both know where we stand with your old man, but lately we don’t know so much with each other.”

“Why?” Nero said.

“Couple things, Vergil coming back, your demon waking up, your natural strength progression. It’s a bunch of things that cumulate and the result is your demon thinks it can take me. My demon sensed that and reacted badly. Now all I can think about is putting you down.” Dante looked upset.

“Ok so what do we do?” Nero said.

“We fight,” Dante shrugged. Nero laughed.

“That’s your answer to everything,” he chuckled. “Punch it in the face.”

“You telling me that your demon doesn’t want to do that right now?”

“I always want to punch you, Dante,” Nero batted his eyelashes. “Just more than usual right now.”

“Yeah,” Dante grinned again. “Me too.” The older hunter bent forwards, lowering his centre of gravity, the Dante appearing in his hands. Nero felt his wings manifest.

“Alright old man,” he said. “Let’s see who’s in charge.”

***

Vergil had adapted to living in the human realm easier than he had expected.

He’d been living by his instincts for so long that he’d expected the limitations of humans to be vexing and downright impossible at worst. He had expected to crave the demon world after a few weeks, to drag Dante back there after a month or more. But he found himself pleasantly surprised.

He had missed things about the human world, things he had forgotten about until they’d come back. A decent mattress was a godsend after sleeping where he could find in the demon world. Human food, while not as satisfying as demon meat, had so much variety that he was rapidly becoming addicted. Though he was still loath to attempt eating plants of any kind, despite Nero’s insistence.

His current mission to the supermarket had proven successful when he had discovered chicken skewers in a delightful sounding dark sauce he’d not yet tried. He was pathetically excited to get home and force Dante to make them.

But upon entering the shop, daydreams of lunch vanished.

The shop was a wreck.

Blood splattered the walls; the floor was covered in chunks of meat that stank of his brother and son. Great claw marks had scared the floor and walls. The sofa was in several parts and they broke every single bottle behind the bar.

“Dante,” Vergil called into the silent wreckage.

“Vergil!” Dante sounded exuberant. There was rhythmic thumping from upstairs and an almost naked Dante appeared at the top of the stairs. He grinned at Vergil, looking happier than he had in the last two weeks. It clicked in Vergil’s head what must have happened.

“Finally got Nero to come over?” Vergil raised an eyebrow.

“He’s in the shower,” Dante started down the stairs.

“Dare I ask who won?” Vergil said. “Or even if the matter is settled.” Dante suddenly looked crestfallen.

“How could you doubt my prowess,” he tipped his head back dramatically. Vergil sighed and thrust the shopping bag at Dante.

“There’s chicken in there make it for us,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: originally there was going to be a chapter before this one, where Dante and Nero struggled to come to terms with their demons wanting to kill each other over something as basic as demon hierarchy. But after attempting it, it was boring. So, I skipped it. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, please review, I’d love to hear what you think of the chapter.
> 
> For information on published works and upcoming projects, release dates, as well as weekly blogs, check out [my website](https://katiemarie21.wordpress.com)


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